


Just once

by Fighting_for_Creativity



Series: Prompts from 2017 [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Insults against LGTB, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Set in 1939, alcoholic drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:22:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22588612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fighting_for_Creativity/pseuds/Fighting_for_Creativity
Summary: Just once Bucky wished for his friend to stay healthy.Just once Steve wanted to be reconized as more than a friend.Just once, maybe both get what they want.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Male Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Prompts from 2017 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1259207
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Just once

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! 
> 
> My Stucky fic I had started in 2017 and now decided to finish with lovely support from Eachpeachpearplum and Skye on discord
> 
> ~~~~ signalized a scene or time skip  
> `italics`thoughts/memories of ppl saying sth.

James “Bucky” Barnes was in deep trouble. The young man, barely 22 years old, was a hard-working law-abiding, well caring and widely respected man. He went to church with his best pal and he made sure that both of them had enough food and clothes and could pay for the doctor whenever Stevie needed one. He wrote his sisters little poems, made sure to visit his mom and siblings, went out dancing a couple of times a month. All in all, he was the epitome of a young, healthy citizen. No one would suspect Bucky of anything dubious, perverted or sick. That’s why he was in trouble. Because he had done something perverted and sick. 

Bucky tried to ignore it in the beginning. Never thought of it, never examined it. Sure, living in Brooklyn you heard whispers everywhere. A bar here, a cafe there. Secret meetings and password requirements all throughout the neighborhood. Not that Bucky participated in any of these perverted things. He didn’t… Until he did. A young, petite, _blond male_ caught his eye one evening on his way back home from the docks. He was beautiful, barely legal and so cocky, it reminded him of the blond waiting home. Before he knew what he was doing, Bucky had followed the blond, who led him to a nondescript alley with a backdoor. The blond smiled coquettishly and then leaned in, kissing Bucky on the cheek, brushing his fingertips over Bucky’s crotch. To the brunet’s shock, he hardened fast, all blood flowing there so suddenly he wondered if he’d pass out from it. 

“Haven’t seen you here,” a soft whisper against the shell of his ear, making him shiver all over. “What a shame you haven’t been around before.”

Bucky gulped down his spit and with it his nervousness. He knew that game. Sure, he usually played it with a pretty dame here or there, but… but he felt good with this boy in his personal space. Bucky leaned back a bit, taking back some space, but at the same time making the most inciting picture he could manage with dirt from the work still clinging to him. “Well, sugar, we can rectify that now, huh. Wanna show a fellow how to have a good time around here?”

The young man actually grinned, despite blushing faintly. “Yes, yes I’d like that. Come.” He knocked at the door and they were let into one of those secret bars Bucky had heard whispers about. Plenty of men and even pretty dames leaning in close together, touching inappropriately in one case or another. Some people were just sitting closely together, exchanging shy glances, hushed conversation filling the bar. Music played softly, romantic tunes inviting young lovers to dance closely together. Some eyed him suspiciously, others winked at him or greeted him with open arms.

When he settled in a booth, it occurred to him that he had seen a few faces here and there from their neighborhood already. There, defiantly was Jefferson, entangled with an unknown man, and Marie, dancing with a dark-haired woman. 

The blond from the alley settled in next to Bucky, introducing himself as Marcus. In return, Bucky gave the name James, and they talked for a while, flirting and touching innocently enough. Now and then, an acquaintance of Marcus’s would come over, drink a beer with them and leave again. It was, frankly speaking, peaceful. After an hour or two, Marcus smiled his coquettish smile again. The blond leaned forward and tangled his fingers with Bucky’s. “Would you like for me to show you a real good time, handsome?”

Bucky was tempted. Those plump lips, the blond hair nearly the same shade as- “No… sorry. I need to get home. My friend will be worried sick.”

A slight frown passed over Marcus’s face but soon enough he shrugged it off. “Hm~, ‘kay. If you change your mind, you can find me here.”

“I… maybe. Ya’re.. uhm… ya’re sweet.” Bucky blushed slightly when he complimented another man with something he would usually say to a dame. Marcus just laughed quietly and waved goodbye. The other was ticking a lot of Bucky’s boxes, even those he hadn’t acknowledged so far. Still, Marcus’s hair was blond, but not the same shade as the pal Bucky had liked for a long time now. 

Herein laid his main trouble, James Buchanan Barnes, known as Bucky, had a lot of feelings for his roommate and best friend. Steven Grant Rogers, the punk who would fight people twice his size if they had insulted or bullied someone. Stevie, who he swore to protect, who his own mom had somewhat adopted. They told everyone they were brothers in all but blood. Yet, Bucky went and let his stupid heart twist those feelings in something else, something mixed with lust and hunger for the smaller male. 

Bucky was ashamed of himself for this. However, as he came home, the tiny apartment cleaned as best as possible, food still set so he only needed to heat it again, his clothes for the next day washed and ironed, he couldn’t help but be overcome by affection and a sense of _home-right-love._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The next morning came faster than he’d liked, leaving Bucky blinking against the faint light coming through the worn curtains. He needed to get ready if it was already beginning to get light. Sighing heavily, Bucky sat up from the couch, running a hand over his face, groaning into it. He wished that just once he could be wise enough not to drink before he needed to work on a Saturday.

“Get up, Buck. You need to get to work in a few. Here’s your breakfast. We ran out of eggs, so you only have salad on the sandwich later. If I get lucky, I can sell some sketches and buy eggs after. Mrs. Meldow from down the street asked if you could take a look at her heating system again…”

“Ugh. Noooo… Not Mrs. Meldow.”

  
Steve winced in sympathy. An apologetic, lopsided smile and a half shrug was all the answer he could give his friend though. They both knew that Mrs. Meldow’s heating system was all ok. The old widow just wanted to see Bucky’s muscles at work. If she didn’t pay well enough for them to add some fruit to their diets, Steve would have told her to stuff it where the sun doesn’t shine a long time ago.

“Well… fine. I’m up I’m up… Have I got enough time for a quick shower?”

Steve glanced out the kitchen window. From here he could see across the road to the only public clock in their neighbourhood. “If you’re quick, 5 minutes tops, Buck. I’ll pack you another sandwich in the meantime.”

“Thanks, Stevie, ya’re the best.”

The blond watched his friend hurry towards their tiny bathroom. They hadn’t talked about Bucky coming home late yesterday, and they most likely wouldn’t. It wasn’t like they were entitled to each other’s times. It was just customary that they spent all their free time together. Not that Bucky had had a whole lot of free time lately. Steve had once again come down with pneumonia the past month, and his friend had worked himself nearly to death just to cover their bills. Since Monday, Steve had started to feel better, and did as much sketching as his tired body would allow him. Sure, he’d have loved to draw something less… vulgar, but adult entertainment sketches sold well. 

So the blond had long ago learned to make the best of things in this regard. After all, he couldn’t let Bucky contribute everything. Sadly, if he was honest, Bucky still contributed to this as well. All the women he heard taking pleasure from his friend, all those painfully detailed descriptions Bucky gave him, made it possible for him to draw what he sold most.

Every time Bucky had a dame over, every time they went out together, Steve felt this unnatural beast biting him. When they had been younger, the blond thought it was jealousy because his friend got all the attention and girls. Now he knew it was because he wanted Bucky’s attention and care for himself. He pushed down those unbidden thoughts and raised one eyebrow when Bucky stumbled back in. He clearly was exhausted.

“Ok… gotta go now, Stevie. Please take it easy.”

Steve felt the heat rushing to his cheeks and when Bucky ruffled his hair he swatted at him, fruitlessly. “Jerk! Now get outta here!”

Bucky's laughter lingered after his departure, leaving Steve alone in their home.

He whispered in the stillness, the unnatural light of dawn settling in making this all surreal, making it safe to voice: “I wish you’d look at me like you look at those dames… Just once Bucky… just once.”

After that, Steve slapped himself on the cheeks lightly enough to not hurt and took a deep breath. Surveying the various dishes and taking stock of the other chores to do for the day, Steve got to work. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was really late that night when Bucky finally got home, reeking of cheap beer and sweat. Steve was still sitting on their couch, waiting for him, eyeing him with both irritation and worry. “Where have you been, Bucky?”

“Out… Sorry, Stevie, didn’t mean to mak’ ya wait for me.”

Steve scooted over a bit, letting his friend plump down next to him. “I… was just worried, Buck.”

“Hmm know that, Stevie. Sorry.” Bucky scouted closer to him, leaning his head on the skinny shoulder and nuzzling his friend’s neck.

Who in reaction, blushed furiously and went rigid. Heart beating so hard, he was worried that it would jump out of his chest, Steve turned as good as he could and stuttered, “Are… are you… Are you drunk?”

  
“Nope. Only… little bit... maybe.”

“Ok, no! You get up, brush your teeth and sleep. I’ll go get the bucket.”

“But Stevieeee, you’re comfy!”

“No I’m not, we both know that. Now get up!”

“Hmpf”

But Bucky didn’t get up. On the contrary. he slung his arm around Steve’s waist and snuggled closer, closing his eyes. He breathed in the smell of his friend, the one he loved more than anything and whispered, “Let me sleep like this. Just once.”

Startled, Steve forgot how to breath for a moment. Then, tentatively, he reached his hand out, patted Bucky's soft hair and sighed. ‘What harm could it do?’

“Fine, just once.”

“Thank ya.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks passed in a blur for Bucky. He worked harder than ever, came home late at night, and promptly fell asleep, sometimes while eating. Steve was concerned, Bucky could tell. But it didn’t matter. The older male needed to work more, so he could buy that present he wanted for Steve. Last Christmas neither had been able to give each other anything. Steve had been bedridden and their whole savings had been pushed into oil for their heater and the doctor’s bills.

And if Bucky also tended to visit the boys bar once a week instead of going dancing with a pretty gal, that was his secret to keep. Marcus was a delightful teacher in many things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something had been off. Steve was aware that Bucky liked to go dancing every so often. Whenever their money allowed it, he managed to score a date for himself, sometimes even one for Steve. In the past, Steve had been jealous of all the dames hanging off his best friend’s arms. Nowadays, he was suspicious of the whereabouts of Bucky. He came home later. He smelled of different fragrances. Not perfume, no, or at least not all of the time. Often it was another aftershave mixed with Buck’s. At first Steve thought nothing of it, maybe just another brawl Bucky got into? 

However, as the weeks passed, the other man spent less and less time with him. Steve refused to acknowledge this clawing beast around his heart. He refused to accept the possibility of Bucky leaving him behind. Still… 

_“I’ll be late again today, Stevie, don’t wait up for me.”_

_“No, I’m not seeing someone at the moment. If I did ya’d be the first to know”_

_“McSayen needs me longer at the dock today, and Jefferson asked for some help with the door repairs. I dunno when I’ll be back.”_

All those sentences ran wild in Steve’s mind, making him fear for his friendship. He had always been afraid that one day Bucky would wake up and realize how insignificant Steve was, how scrawny, how replaceable. Bucky could and should get himself a new roommate. Someone more healthy. Someone who could chip in more. Or... or a healthy best friend, even. Someone who would be less of a hassle to take care of. In all his fear, Steve decided to be stupid. He would follow his friend and find out what was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain thundered outside the boy bar. Bucky was more than happy to be in the warmth, surrounded by carefree people. Hard working men and women, only difference to the ‘American Dream’ for who they loved. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve knew when Bucky was supposed to finish his work on the docks, so he went out just in time to see the workers leave. In the midst of all those men he barely stood a chance of spotting his friend. Somehow, though, he found Bucky, who was talking to a smaller man. A blond, small man. It hurt to see. They walked rather closely together, brushing arms here and there and talking animatedly, so that even from a distance Steve could see how much they enjoyed it. ‘This… it’s nearly… like with us…’

Steve couldn’t believe his eyes. His worst nightmare was becoming reality. Dread and panic made themselves a home in his chest, denying him the air he struggled to breath on even good days. He missed the direction the others went, but he knew he needed to be alone for a while anyway. So he wandered the surrounding alleys, not registering much but the pain radiating through his every cell. 

In a not so far away corner, somewhere between the docks and the bar, three men had cornered a young dame, or what Steve thought of as a dame, sneering at her and insulting her.

“Such a dyke!”

“Probably a slut as well!”

“Lets all those men use you!”

Steve didn’t hear much more, he didn’t need to. Between one moment and the next he squared his shoulders, jotted out his chin stubbornly and glowered at the bigger men. “HEY!” he yelled furiously. 

The men turned towards him, the gal- ‘ _No, dude in a skirt? Huh_ ’ turned fearful eyes towards Steve, only to take off the next second. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky was sitting next to Marcus once again. They laughed and joked, touched just to egg each other on. They had decided to let off steam with each other once in a while, but there was nothing serious about it. Bucky was more than grateful to have someone understand how he felt. He even dared to talk about Stevie. Not with a name but… Jefferson’s knowing look when he told the group about his little pretty friend whom he had been in love with for a while was enough for Bucky to realize that his feelings were quite obvious to those around him. The brunet had nearly choked on his drink then, only to be reassured by the others _, /no, James, no one outside the community would guess. Your secret is safe/_

Their idle little world was rudely interrupted by a frantic looking male in a skirt. 

“Joanna,” Marcus waved him- _`No, Bucky. It’s a her!`_ over. “What’s going on? Need a drink?”

“There… oh god. I just ran away. But… He’s probably dead by now… god.” 

Everyone started to look concerned. Low murmurs surrounded them as Marcus asked, “Who?”

  
“A boy? Maybe a young man. There were three men, assaulting me. He stood up for me and I ran. He.. he looked plenty like you Marcus.”

Bucky’s world narrowed down. He felt as though he had been dunked in ice cold water, and at the same time all light was vanishing. Muffled voices around him. Too much heat, yet too cold. Too bright, too dim. All narrowed down on those few sentences, repeating in his head. _/Looked like you- Probably dead by now/_

“James? Jamey?! Hey… deep breaths!! Can someone get me a glass of water?”

Bucky didn’t feel the hand guiding him on the stool at first. He swallowed down the water and with it the lump that had formed in his throat. He blinked a few times until-

“Oh my god. Joanna? Right? Blue eyes? A bit smaller than Marcus?” Bucky asked, nearly feral with fear.

“Yeah… yeah that sounds about right. You know him.” It wasn’t even a question, not with the way James, _Bucky_ , reacted.

“Stevie… god Stevie… I...!”

Completely taken over by worry and dread, Bucky sprang from his seat and ran out the door. Only to halt before he closed it behind himself again. Marcus had been hot on his heels. Looking at him, smiling grimly, “Go get him. I’m gonna take care of the bill. Was my round anyway!”

  
“Thank you.”

Alley after alley he searched, only to finally hear, ”I’m not a fag! And, even if I were one, you have no right to do this.” The voice was small but furious, the way only Steve, his Stevie, could get when he was badly hurt. 

Bucky saw red. He rounded the next corner to see three men, all way bigger than his fallen friend. Bucky surveyed the alley, looking for anything he could use as a weapon, and found a fallen dumpster lid. He picked it up as silently as he could and swung with it, hitting one of the three square on the back, rendering him motionless for a bit.

“What the-!”

Before bully number two could do more thea turn around, Bucky caught him with a left hook. A clear crunching sound resounded, telling of lost teeth and a broken jaw. 

Bully number three tried to attack, using the commotion and the rain to his advantage. He flailed his arms in vain attempts to hit Bucky. Something verging on pride swelled in Bucky’s chest when he saw the split lip, Steve had given the man. He ducked the clumsy attempts, using all his experience, both thanks to boxing and Steve’s brawls, and kicked the other man in the inside of his knee. With a loud scream he went down, hitting his head on the concrete, staying motionless for the time being.

‘One done, two to go’ Some dark part of Bucky kept tally like this was some sick game. He felt a hand grabbing for his wrist, and twisted, changing his footing, pulling the man down and raising his knee. That led to a broken nose for the second man. The last one, the one Bucky had hit with the lid, sent a frightened look between his fallen friends and the blood smeared on Bucky, halfway washed away by the rain already. 

Bucky arched an eyebrow and the man scrambled away, leaving his fallen friends behind him. 

Sighing, Bucky closed his eyes and let the adrenaline fade from his veins. Then, only when he was calm enough to not freak out again, he looked towards the shivering, fragile body of his best friend and couldn’t help but pray, ´God, please just once let him stay healthy. Make sure he makes it through.` 

Out loud he said, “C’mon Punk, let’s get you home and warm.”

The taller man knelt next to his friend and cradled him against his chest, soaking his own clothes even more.

They got home as fast as Bucky could run. Both were soaked by that time, but for Bucky it didn’t matter. The only thing he was concerned with was getting Steve warm and dry. So he shrugged out of his wet clothes, all but his boxers, and helped Steve to do the same. Then he picked his shivering friend up once again, bringing them into the too small shower. Bucky turned up the heat as high as possible and scrubbed Steve’ skin warm as fast as he could. He set the small male on the toilet seat and rinsed himself hurriedly.

All the while he kept an eye on his friend. He bundled the blond in the fluffiest blanket they had and warmed some brew Steve had prepared a day ago.

While Steve ate, still shivering violently, Bucky sat as close as possible, sharing his warmth.

After he had settled Steve into the small bed they possessed, Bucky knelt on the floor, face on Steve’s thigh. “Whatya doin’ outside in that weather, Stevie?”

At first he got no answer, and for the longest time Bucky feared his friend wouldn’t talk to him anymore.

A meek, half-coughed, “Buck,” gave him some hope.

“Yeah, punk?”

“You.. I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore. Don’t like me anymore.”

Bucky was taken aback by that. How could his best friend, his source of light, think like that? What had Bucky done to make Steve feel that way? “Stevie?” he whispered, voice laced with sadness. ”God, Stevie, no. How could ya thin’ that?”

“Cuz you..” Another coughing fit, this time really violent, interrupted the speech. 

Bucky surged forward, pressing their foreheads together, settling a hand on Steve’s chest and spoke firmly. “In and out! With me, punk. In and out.”

It took some time, but after he settled again, cheeks a feverish red, Steve continued his point. “You’ve hardly been home the past few weeks. You… you… I saw you and that blond. He’s healthier than me. You probably like him better. More.”

“Oh god, no! Steve! I was working, really I was. I wanted to buy ya those special pencils ya have wanted for ages now. Cuz, I like ya too much, punk. Marcus, the other blond, he’s a friend now. He’s shown me stuff. He told me it’s ok that I like ya as much as I do!”

Mortified by his outburst, Bucky wanted to backtrack, to flee the room. Surprisingly, Steve’s grip in his hair was stronger than he thought.

“You… you like me?” Steve’s voice was a faint whisper, filled with hope and longing. 

The brunet startled. Was that really what it sounding like? Was god for once on their side? Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle wetly at that. “Yeah, yeah ya punk. I like- I love ya, have been for a long time.” 

Steve’s breath hitched and then he laughed tearily. “Gosh… Oh my… Buck… I… I do too.”

They pressed their foreheads even closer together. Bucky felt Steve’s breath on his lips, their noses brushing, blue oceans locked with grey-blue steel, only truth reflecting in them. It should have felt awkward. It should have felt all kinds of wrong. But… when their lips shyly met, when their eyes closed, their hands pressed together even more, all they felt was rightness, love. In that moment Bucky knew he would do everything he could to keep Steve happy and healthy. Even die for this man, if he needed to. 

Because… _just once_ everything made sense.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [PottersPink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PottersPink/pseuds/PottersPink) Log in to view. 




End file.
